identity (and the sound of the bells ringing)
by writingpenguin
Summary: In which Robin thinks she is underserving of Chrom and his halidom.


_**iii. identity (and the sound of the bells ringing)**_

For as long as she could remember (which isn't that long considering she woke up in a grassy field just a few years ago), Robin has always felt insecure.

There are times like these when she sits in front of a mirror and stares intently at herself, wondering what exactly Chrom sees in her. She shifts around slowly, working out the different angles and planes of her features and frowns. She doesn't see much poise or grace in the reflection of herself – like Maribelle – or the gentle kindness and beauty that Sumia has. Neither does she possess the never ending courage that seems to embolden every move Sully makes.

She isn't much, she admits to herself. Just an amnesiac who conveniently has half a brain for war tactics. (Not that that even did them much good.)

She shuts her eyes close at the thought of the worst of her failures. Emmeryn.

It was her fault after all. She is the strategist. She's supposed to be able to predict the outcomes, to minimize the casualties, to guide their army to victory.

And in that massacre of a battle, she had failed all three.

She doesn't know what Chrom sees in her (how he could even look at her in the aftermath of Emmeryn's fall – doesn't know why he trusts her with his life and his kingdom).

She's going to fail him again, she realizes with dread, and she fears for the day when she does.

And as she looks at her reflection displayed across her, she contemplates on perhaps running away – because maybe she can stop the series of disasters and disappointments that she can already see in her mind's eye when she marries him.

But then Lissa bursts into her dressing room with a wide smile on her face, and Robin scrambles, attempting to fix the veil and flowers upon her hair.

"Robin! Where have you been hiding?! Stop, no! Don't touch your hair!"

Batting Robin's hands away from her head, she pushes her sister-to-be towards the door by her while giggling along.

"Come on already," Lissa drags excitedly. "Chrom and the entire halidom have been waiting for hours!"

Just like that, Robin winces and stops. "Lissa."

"Robin–?"

"I-I can't," Robin stutters, shaking her head in her hands.

Lissa nods slowly, a nervous smile on her face. "Yeah, you can," she says comfortingly. "Everyone gets nervous on their wedding day."

"No. No, you don't understand. I'm going to–"

"Robin."

She freezes, and they both turn to the newcomer.

"Chrom," she whispers, tears forming in her eyes.

"The people are starting to think this whole thing a farce," he jokes. "I know I'm not supposed to see you until you're out, but..." His voice trails off as he looks at her properly.

"Lissa, will you leave us for a moment?"

She walks out of the room immediately and closes the door, but not before leaving a soft pat of comfort on Robin's arm.

"What's wrong, love?" Chrom asks, gently taking hold of her shoulders.

Robin turns to him desperately, apologetically. "I'm sorry, Chrom. I can't do this. I can't."

There's a moment of vulnerability and shock, but then they're both smoothly covered by an unreadable expression on his face as he slowly releases her.

"I won't keep you here if you don't want to marry me, Robin. Know that," he pauses, meaningfully meeting her gaze. "I do, however, think that I at least deserve an explanation."

"I–I... I'm going to fail you, Chrom. I don't know royal politics. I don't know how to be a queen," she reasons, looking up to his face searchingly for validation, understanding, anything. "I have already failed you once, when it mattered the most... I fear that I will let you down again."

Chrom's expression softens, and he lets out a deep sigh. "Oh, Robin."

"I do not have noble blood or connections. Your court will not approve of me! Their queen will be a stranger or worse, an enemy! Chrom, my mage robes are that of Plegia's – do not tell me you haven't noticed that..."

She looks down ashamedly, tears running down her face and sniffles, rubbing her eyes, trying to regain some composure.

"I am not Maribelle, Sumia or Sully who are all, in some ways, greatly favored by your people," she says, drying her cheeks with the sleeve of her dress. "There is no sense in marrying me. I cannot hold up to your halidom's expectations. I've heard the murmurs start already."

"It doesn't matter," Chrom decides, after a brief period of silence. "They do not matter."

Robin's head shoots up in surprise and incredulity. "They do not matter? They are your people, Chrom! You are the exalt in all but name. Your turning down the title does nothing to impede your duties."

"No, Robin," he says, lifting a hand to the side of her face. "This is my – our – wedding, not theirs. I... I have given much for my country and will continue to do so until my last breath."

He smiles sadly, thumbing away some of her stray tears. "But they will not have this. If you will have me, love, I will marry you and only you. I care not for your background or connections, I care only for the times you have saved me and supported me when I was at my lowest."

"Chrom, I–"

"You are not Sumia or Maribelle or Sully. You are Robin. You are Ylisse's Grandmaster. You are our tactician. You are the wind on my back and the sword at my side. And you are my wife... that is, if you'll have me."

"But what if I..." Robin whispers, her voice cracking.

"You have not failed me. You will never fail me. I love you, and I will support you, and I will comfort you," he firmly insists, gently kissing her forehead.

"And if you feel the same, Robin," he whispers drawing her close into his embrace. "Marry me."

* * *

A/N: Hi! This was originally posted on my tumblr blog, theaveragepenguin. If you like this and want to read more Chrobin fics, you can go check it out. :)


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